


pancakes and orange juice

by malfoysire



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Endgame, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Ian's perspective, M/M, Mental Illness, POV Third Person, ian and mickey just really love each other okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 02:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18459650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfoysire/pseuds/malfoysire
Summary: Ian felt like he was falling, but Mickey would always be there to catch him.Or, a short one shot on how Ian battles with his mental illness and how Mickey helps him.





	pancakes and orange juice

Ian didn’t believe in much.

He saw the turbulent waves crash onto the sand and watched as the sun melted into a melody of colors painted on the horizon. He saw a newborn baby’s cry as in was thrusted into the world for the very first time. He saw for years the helping hand’s of strangers passing by on the street. 

Yet when he looked at his own life, none of that seemed to matter.

How could he trust God, when he couldn’t even believe his own mind wouldn’t betray him?

When he was born into unloving parents, into a disorder that could destroy him, and into a world that would never accept him?

His room was safe. His bed was safe. There were no pitying looks or incited violence within these four walls. The darkness was different here. Outside, it washed over him suddenly and there was nothing he could do. But in here, he could revel in it, even find comfort in it. It was easier to battle demons out of the public eye, away from societal expectations and concerned family members.

Ian didn’t know he could have so many emotions at once. Happiness and sadness were supposed to be experienced exclusively, but Ian found himself too often on the lows of depression while being sky-high in mania. Sadness and recklessness never mixed well. 

Some days everything seemed overwhelming. A piece of toast being burnt would normally just be a slight inconvenience, but on bad days it was enough to make him _snap._

He hated the uncontrollable rage that flooded inside him and turned him into this ugly monster he didn’t recognize. Ian knew it was there, he was aware of what he was doing, but he just couldn’t stop. And it killed him. He watched himself hurt the people he kept close, who he loved more than anything and it was as if he didn’t have a say over his own reactions. 

Yet there was nothing more that Ian hated more than being babied. _Did you take your meds? Are you off your meds, is that why you’re upset? Do you need a break?_

It was as if he was a small child, incapable of thinking for himself or knowing what’s good for him. For fuck’s sake, he had bipolar disorder, he wasn’t brain dead.

He was more than aware that people just wanted the best for him, that they were just looking out for his best interest. But he couldn’t help like feeling everything was closing in and he was being suffocated. The sympathy dragged his self-esteem down beneath the dirt. Everyone treated him as if he was a broken toy, as if being born the way he was makes him fundamentally broken. So every time there was a mention of his pills, or how he was doing, or if he needed anything, it was a major blow to his ego. It made it easier to push people away. No harm done if no one could reach you.

Calm came in the form of blue eyes and dark hair and morning breath that smelled like cigarettes. 

When everything felt like it was spinning out of control, there was just one person who would ground him and make him feel like all of his problems would simply disappear. 

Mickey.

Mickey was his life-line, the one thing that even in his darkest of days would help him see the light, even if it was just a flicker of hope in the shadows. 

He knew they fought too often. He knew he would hurt Mickey, and then Mickey would cross a line and then they were back to being oceans apart.

But they would always find their way back to each other.

Mickey made sure of that. He made Ian promise that they would never go to bed angry, even when their emotions were about to explode and both of them thought for just a moment their lives would be better if they never saw each other again. 

He made sure Ian knew that no matter how much his illness would take from him, it would never take away Mickey.

On days where Ian couldn’t muster the courage to leave the house, Mickey would not leave his side and simply traced his fingers in gentle circles on the soft skin of his cheek. They would just gaze into each other’s eyes for hours, feeling as if they were looking into their own soul. 

Mickey started to learn his boundaries. When push became shove and when supporting became overbearing. Pancakes and orange juice every morning were an easy way of saying, _I love you, and I want you to know I’m here._ Whether or not Ian chose to eat, Mickey would be more than willing to just quietly encourage him with less than words. 

The good times made all the bad times worth it.

With every cloudy day came another where sunshine burst through the gray, where rambunctious laughter and wide grins and kissing slow and deep took up every minute of those twenty four hours.

There was drunken dancing on the streets and sex under bleachers and screaming into the sky. 

Ian could forget, then, that anything was ever wrong with his life. Money problems and medicine and boring work days seemed to pale in comparison to the boundless love he was blessed with.

He knew that no matter what went wrong, whether they were in jail or not, he and Mickey would be standing side by side, holding hands, walking the road together. 

Ian didn’t believe in much.

But he believed in Mickey.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was really short, but after I found out Mickey was returning to the series I had to write something!
> 
> Ian's perspective is based off his own experiences with bipolar disorder as well as my own. I hope you enjoyed. <3


End file.
